


Jasmine and Almond

by AgentCoop



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Flirting, College, Hair Washing, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Shower Sex, study session gone awry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25620199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentCoop/pseuds/AgentCoop
Summary: Sing's been harboring a secret crush on Yue since the moment Yue walked into his upper level Lit class and sat down.Now they've been paired to write a paper together, Yue's invited him over to study,And Sing has no idea how to keep his secret a secret any longer.
Relationships: Lee Yut-Lung/Sing Soo-Ling
Comments: 2
Kudos: 74





	Jasmine and Almond

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JadedLynx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadedLynx/gifts).



> Thanks so much Claudia for letting me write your amazing idea <3 <3 <3

The door to Yue’s room looked like the door to every other apartment in the complex and Sing hesitated a minute before pulling out his phone–triple checking to make sure he had the right number.

He did.

He was just nervous.

Yue had invited him over to study seemingly on a complete whim, and while Sing was pretty certain it was legit, Yue had this air about him of someone who particularly liked to manipulate others and then laugh later–something that terrified Sing.

His phone buzzed just as Sing was about to put it away again.

**Eiji  
** _Dinner tonight? Ash is buying._

Sing quickly texted back a _sure_ , before gritting his teeth, shrugging the straps of his backpack up again, and knocking on the door.

It swung open immediately.

“I was wondering when you were going to knock,” Yue said. “You’ve been standing there a while.”

“Oh, uh...” he had nothing to say to that. Any ounce of wit or cleverness he’d ever possessed had disappeared the moment Yue opened the door, his black hair swept over his shoulder and pinned with one of the same jade green hairpins Sing had seen him wear the first time they’d ever been in class together.

Yue’s eyebrows rose and he gave an extended sweep of his eyes up and down Sing’s body. “You’re large,” he finally said. “I could hear you walk down the hall. And then you stopped. And stood.”

He moved aside so Sing could enter and Sing did everything he could to control the heat rushing to his cheeks. “You just standing there at the keyhole or something? Creepy.”

Smiling, Yue gave a small nod, then stepped in to close the door behind Sing. “Tea?”

“I…”

“Or beer?”

“Fuck, yes,” Sing said, then followed Yue into the kitchen.

The apartment was small–standard college town fare with walls too thin, paint too white, and carpets well worn and faded. But Yue had somehow managed to make the place look way classier than it should. There were a couple of tapestries hanging on the wall–the kind you could buy downtown at the hippie, fair-trade shop that sold the best fucking under-the-counter weed in the small college town. There were tall stand lights in the corner of the living room that Yue had draped with some sort of gauzy jade green fabric that matched his hairpin, and even though there was still light coming through the windows, the muted lighting gave everything an ethereal, soft vibe that was putting Sing even more on edge than he’d been when he knocked at the door.

He’d been sitting behind the other boy in Lit class for an entire semester now. An entire semester spent watching the bow of Yue’s neck as he bent down for his pencil, or the shell of his ear as it moved ever so slightly when he smiled. Sing had been infatuated with him the moment Yue walked into the classroom in a chunky white cable-knit sweater with his jet black hair falling over one shoulder.

Eiji’d told him to just go for it–to just grab Yue after class, ask him if he wanted to go for coffee, or dinner.

That definitely would have been the smart thing to do.

Instead, Sing was in Yue’s apartment, watching as Yue cracked open two beers on the handles of his cupboards with the grace of a dancer, and wishing more than anything he would have just made a move ages ago before the point where it just got, well…

Awkward.

Yue pushed the beer across the counter, fingers brushing against Sing’s just long enough for Sing to blush harder.

“So, writing a paper?” Sing asked.

“Eager,” Yue murmured, eyebrow arching again. He turned for the sink and washed his hands while Sing grabbed his beer and drank down as much as he could.

The sink cut off, Yue turned around and sipped his own beer, then extended an arm. “This way,” he said.

Sing followed him around the corner and down the hall to Yue’s bedroom. This room was similarly decorated–though here, the scarves over the lights were a dark red, and a flowing black and red tapestry with a dragon hung over the bed. The room smelled thickly of musky cinnamon incense and Sing quickly spotted the remains of a burned stick in a holder on the bedside table. Sing walked over to the desk and dropped his backpack while Yue pulled another chair over from the other side of the room.

The desk was completely clean–no sign of the three translations of Homer that they’d been working from in class, not even any sign of Yue’s laptop. Sing tried not to let it ruffle him. He sat down and pulled out his own books and laptop. His laptop made the familiar whirring, buzzing, awful sound that was signalling it’s imminent death, and he tried not to flinch at how loud it seemed in the quiet of Yue’s room.

Yue just smiled again, then pushed his own chair out of the way and perched on top of the desk.

“Uh,” Sing said. “Did you...I mean…”

“Paper?” Yue asked. He took another drink of beer, and Sing watched the way his Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed, slow and languid and just as graceful as the rest of him.

Sing squeezed his eyes closed and swallowed hard, willing himself away from...that. He took another long drink of his own beer and then cleared his throat, hoping that his voice would at least come out normal. “Yeah, paper. Uh, look. I suck at these sorts of collaborative things. I usually like working alone better. So I’m not sure–”

“You and me both.”

Sing looked up and Yue was watching him, his dark irises almost purple in the hazy light.

“I didn’t mean,” Sing fumbled for words. “I didn’t mean that I didn’t want to work together, just that I don’t usually do this, and it will–”

“It’s fine,” Yue said, his lips turning up in a grin. “Compare and contrast three translations of The Iliad and give supporting examples to back up your discoveries. Something like that, yes?”

Sing nodded.

“Easy enough. Shouldn’t take long.” Yue leaned further forward, and one of his knees brushed against Sing’s. “Was there anything else?”

His eyes flashed even darker and for a second Sing was certain there was more to those words–an invitation of sorts–but he also knew that he was looking for hidden meaning in every single one of Yue’s actions and dammit, why did Eiji always have to be right?

“Sing?” Yue asked.

His voice was like honey, and all Sing could think about was how much he wanted to put his arms around Yue, to pull him close and kiss him, and do everything he’d ever imagined.

“Fuck,” Sing grunted, trying to pull himself together. “Sorry, thinking about something else.”

“Oh?” Yue leaned even closer, and Sing was just about ready to call it quits on the whole thing and suggest they find other partners for the project when Yue straightened back up and then hopped off the desk without a sound.

“I need a shower,” Yue said, flicking his hair over his shoulder with his fingers.

Sing didn’t know what to say to that. “Aren’t we...should I...is there a better time to do this?”

“No!” Yue laughed.

Even his laugh was fucking perfect–light and tinkling like the tiny bells on the door of the old Chinese restaurant that Sing worked at as a kid.

Sing blinked. This was getting ridiculous.

“No, I can come back–”

“Of course not.” Yue walked over to the closet and began rifling through the clothes, pulling out another sweater that looked extremely similar as the one he was currently wearing, and a pair of dark black jeans. “Help yourself to another beer if you’d like. I’ll be out soon and we can continue.”

Then he disappeared down the hall.

Continue? Sing thought. They hadn’t started a single thing.

He was still lost in thought as the shower clicked on a few minutes later, and then Sing stood and began pacing Yue’s room. It felt like a sort of invasion of privacy, that he was here in Yue’s personal space eyeing every belonging, but the alternative was thinking about Yue in the shower and his long black hair curling down the small of his back, and his pale, milky skin glistening underneath the fall of water, and–

“Fuck,” Sing growled. He was half hard already and that was more of an invasion of privacy than anything else so he devoted his entire attention to Yue’s bookshelves.

It was an eclectic mix of things–a shelf devoted entirely to mythology, a few Gaiman and Murakami books, a section on Chinese healing, a few books on herbal remedies and teas. There was an outdoor backpacking book, what appeared to be the entire collective works of Tolkein, and a very sad and forlorn looking copy of The Elements of Style. Positioned in nooks and crannies around the books were all manner of tiny things, from little wooden carved dragons to a beautiful silver box with a lotus flower on top. Sing was just running his finger across the petals of the latter when the door to the bathroom opened.

“Could you bring me a towel?” Yue called down the hall.

The shower was still running–Sing could hear the water hitting against the ground even louder now.

“Uh…”

“Hallway closet,” Yue called. “On your left.”

Sing was already moving there before the door shut again, but now he was starting to sweat, beads of it running down the back of his neck.

Yue standing in the shower, looking down at his feet. The graceful arch of his back, the hard line of his jaw…

Sing groaned and ran his sweaty palms down the sides of his pants. He’d get Yue the towel, then he’d tell Yue that it wasn’t a good night after all. He’d leave, he’d meet Ash and Eiji for dinner and listen to them both just laugh their asses off over what an enormous mess he’d made of everything.

“Sing?” Yue called again.

Sing’s fingers closed around the top towel–thick, fluffy, and deep purple. He pulled it out, eased the closet door closed, and stepped up to the bathroom door.

“Got it,” he said, cringing at how raw his voice sounded. “Where do you–”

The door opened and Yue reached out, snagging the collar of Sing’s shirt and pulling him into the steamy bathroom.

“Wait–” Sing tried to say, but Yue pushed him back against the sink hard enough that Sing stumbled.

The door swung closed. “I always have to do everything, don’t I,” Yue teased.

Sing looked up to see him leaning against the open shower door, grin curving on his face, hair damp and curling against his shoulders as steam from the shower surrounded him.

And he was utterly naked.

Sing swallowed hard and looked over to the door, then back at Yue again, trying as hard as he could to keep his eyes at face level only. “Uh–”

“You’ve been waiting for a chance, right?” Yue questioned, reaching a hand up towards his ear and slowly curling his fingers in his hair before pointing at Sing. “I’ve seen the way you look at me in class when you think no one’s watching.”

Swallowing hard, Sing scratched at the back of his neck and hoped that the red, hot flare of heat at his cheeks wasn’t noticeable in the steam, and well aware that his half-hard cock was now on its way to fully erect.

“Sing?” Yue asked. He stepped forward and rose up on the balls of his feet, wrapping a hand around the back of Sing’s neck and pulling him close enough that their noses touched. “I’ve looked at you too,” he whispered, mouth brushing against Sing’s lips.

“Fuck,” Sing murmured. Yue didn’t move, just hovered there on the tips of his toes waiting. “Yes,” Sing said. “Yes, I’ve watched you, fuck, I’ve wanted you–”

Yue surged forward and captured Sing’s mouth with his own and Sing could do nothing but follow, desperate for every taste Yue offered. Yue was rucking up Sing’s shirt and Sing shrugged out of it easily, Yue’s fingers were at the button of Sing’s pants and then they were gone too, and all the while Sing couldn’t bring himself to come up for air.

Yue kissed like he was desperate, and Sing couldn’t get enough.

Finally, Yue’s back against the shower door and Sing’s knee in between his legs, Yue broke free with a gasp. “Shower,” he murmured, reaching out and clasping Sing’s hand.

Sing gave a little gasp as the hot water hit his back but Yue was already pressed against him again, mouth seeking mouth, skin seeking skin. His fingers trailed down Sing’s chest in swirling patterns, pausing right below his navel for just a moment before continuing down. Sing gripped Yue’s hips tightly, hands wrapping around Yue as if they were made for no one but Yue.

Sing wanted to be touched so badly he almost moaned–he tried to get closer, to rub up against Yue’s hip, but Yue just pushed him up against the back wall.

“So big,” Yue teased, mouthing at the curve of Sing’s collarbone as his fingers teased along Sing’s inner thigh, and Sing let out a little laugh of frustration.

Yue’s own cock brushed against Sing’s leg and Sing reached down, wrapping his fingers around the silky smooth skin and giving a slow stroke.

Yue gasped against his shoulder, then returned the favor, his thumb brushing against the head of Sing’s cock before closing his hand around Sing’s length and giving it a few, paralyzingly slow strokes.

“I want you to fuck me,” Yue murmured, words almost lost in the spray of the shower as his hand continued to work Sing’s cock.

It was getting hard to breathe. It was days, and weeks, and months of Sing fantasizing about Yue underneath him, mouth opened in a perfect o shape and little cries of pleasure escaping–and now it was happening. Everything was coming true. “Ok,” he managed.

Letting go, Yue turned slowly towards the wall. “I’m ready,” he said quietly. “I mean, I got ready while I was in here...I mean…” he gave a little laugh as his cheeks reddened.

It was the first time Sing had seen him look unsure–the first time Yue had shed that haughty exterior.

It somehow felt more personal than even seeing his naked body.

“You’re gorgeous,” Sing said, running a finger along the length of Yue’s spine.

Yue’s hand closed to a fist against the wall as he tensed, then let out a breathy moan. “Please,” he murmured.

Sing stepped up behind him, watching the way the water hit Yue’s back, eyes following the trail of it all the way to Yue’s perfect feet where it swirled briefly before running back towards the drain. He lay the palm of his hand against the small of Yue’s back, then ran it all the way down Yue’s thigh before bringing it up again, relishing every little gasp and shudder that Yue gave. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” Sing whispered. He leaned forward and kissed Yue’s neck, kissed Yue’s shoulder, desperate for any part of Yue he could claim. “Are you sure?”

“Please,” Yue moaned again. He bent even further, the globes of his ass touching Sing’s cock.

“Oh fuck,” Sing groaned. He reached down wrapping a hand around his cock and guided it towards Yue’s entrance until the head of it brushed against Yue’s hole. “Fuck,” he said again, pushing ever so slightly.

It wasn’t Sing’s first time, but it was the first time without copious amounts of alcohol–it was the first time things felt truly _real_.

“Oh my god,” Sing groaned, hips pushing forward more and more until he had sunk in up to the hilt. Yue let out a deep breath, then reached down between his legs and wrapped a hand around his dick as Sing slowly drew back, then rocked in again.

Yue was so tight, and so hot, and fuck Sing had wanted this forever. The breathy moans that Yue gave were even better than in his fantasies, the way Yue’s hair wrapped around the back of his neck–so dark against the paleness of his skin–the way he turned his head against the wall of the shower just enough so that Sing could see his eyes, could see the way he smiled.

Sing knew he wouldn’t last long, but he clenched his teeth as hard as he could and tried to go slow, tried to wring out every single groan of pleasure from Yue that he could. With every pump of his hips, Yue let out a little whimper, and as Sing started to move faster and faster, Yue’s cries took shape in the steam of the shower: _Sing, Sing, Sing_ –

Yue’s hand was moving quicker at his cock now, and suddenly he buried his head in the crook of his arm.

“I’m close,” he groaned. There was a red flush traveling down the back of his neck, and Sing leaned in and kissed it, mouthing at the back of Yue’s shoulder and sucking a bruise into his skin.

“Fuck,” Yue gasped. “Fuck, I’m close, Sing–”

He gave a little whimper, and Sing watched as he came, cum spattering against the shower wall, then he pushed back hard onto Sing.

It was all Sing needed. He thrust against Yue hard, his stomach tightening, warm heat flooding him, and then he came with a groan, spurting deep inside of Yue as his fingers clenched tight around Yue’s hips.

“I’m sorry,” Sing gasped, throwing a hand up to the shower wall before falling against Yue’s back.

“What are you sorry for?”

“Didn’t mean...didn’t mean to be so fast,” Sing laughed. “I just–”

Yue shook his head, his smile curving bigger. “I didn’t mean to be so fast either.”

“Oh,” Sing said. He was trying to control his breathing, but everything inside of him still felt so surreal–sparkling and tender and crystallized. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to sleep, or wanted to scream his triumph for all the world to hear. “Shit. I...I wanted this, you I mean. I wanted you for so long, and now...”

Yue squirmed out of Sing’s arms and stepped into the spray, pushing his hair back from his face. “Was it worth it?” he asked, still turned away from Sing as his fingers carded through long black strands.

Sing watched as drops fell from Yue’s neck down his back. “Oh my god, yes,” he murmured.

Yue looked over his shoulder, and Sing could see the pink flush of his cheeks. He looked unsure for just a second, younger than he was, then he gave a little shrug. “Wash my hair?” he asked, looking away again.

His heart was pounding hard again, but Sing stepped forward and reached out, carding Yue’s long hair back over his shoulder. He tilted his head down and pressed a kiss to the nape of Yue’s neck, then another, trailing all the way to the bruise that was starting to form. “Do you want to come to dinner with me?”

Yue stilled.

“You don’t have to,” Sing stammered. “I just told Ash and Eiji, from class right? I told them I’d meet them after this. You could come if you wanted?” He was talking too much again, he was making more out of this than it was, so he closed his eyes and tried as hard as he could not to breathe.

It seemed like eternity, but Yue finally released the breath he’d been holding. “I’d like that,” he said quietly.

“Fuck you are such an asshole!”

“I gave you the answer you wanted, right?” Yue turned around again and reached a hand around the back of Sing’s neck, pulling him down for another kiss.

Groaning, Sing let him and kissed him back as hard as he could until they were both gasping for breath again.

“How long have you known?” Sing asked.

“Since the first day you walked into class. Saw you staring. Stared back. Clearly you aren’t very good at picking up signals.”

“How nice of you to keep playing me that long,” Sing muttered.

“Eh.” Shrugging, Yue bent towards the corner of the shower, then handed a bottle of shampoo to Sing. “It was fun to watch you suffer.”

The second the lid cracked, the smell of jasmine and almonds filled the air. The smell of _Yue_.

“You’re the worst,” Sing said.

“Still want me to come to your dinner?”

Sing couldn’t help but smile, and he buried his nose against Yue’s neck and kissed him again. “Yeah,” Sing murmured. Then he soaped up his hands, threaded his fingers through the thickness of Yue’s gorgeous black hair, closed his eyes, and let the sound of water drown out everything else.


End file.
